


Ablility To Be

by Batmanfan11



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Coming Out, F/M, Trans!Morty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 03:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5895931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batmanfan11/pseuds/Batmanfan11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morty is getting ready to come out to his family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ablility To Be

Today was the start of a new day. A day where Mora- _ **NO**_ -Morty Smith would finally be who he was. He was not a girl. He was not the family’s little princess. He was not their second daughter. He was not Mora Elizabeth Smith.

He was Morty Elizabeth Smith.

He hadn’t thought of what to change his middle name to. It was a tie between Alexander and Julian. He was leaning toward Alexander but Julian sounded a bit more royal to his ears. Morty knew he was a dork but it was his name and he can call himself whatever he wanted to. He was also thinking of Anthony or maybe even Finn.  

Morty shook his head away from his thoughts. He could think about it later. Right now, he had something more important to worry about. Something that involved scissors and hair.

Morty looked at himself in the mirror of his small bathroom. The small oval mirror showed the beautiful face of _Mora Elizabeth Smith_. Cramped between the sink and the rim of the bath tub, Morty looked at his shoulder length, curly hair. Brown locks were damp and brushed as well as he could get it. He was going to straighten it but that would take hours and Morty didn’t have hours. He had about 40 minutes tops.

He placed his phone against the wall, standing it on the sink. On it was a picture of a boy with brown, curly hair in the hair style that he wanted. It was simple and plain but boyish. Not a pixie cut but boy short hair. No curled tips and no style to have it flat against his head in short strands. He needed the reference because he knew he would mess up if he didn’t have it.

**_How pathetic.You need a picture to cut your hair short. Nice one, Morty._ **

“Shut the hell up,” he growled at himself.

He looked at himself in the mirror once more.

He was really going to do it today.

Morty was going to cut his hair. He was going to bind his chest, however small, with an ACE bandage. He was going to demand to be called Morty. He was going to be himself. He was going to be _Morty Alexander Smith._

**_No. That doesn’t sound right._ **

The fear of rejection from his family was still a possibility but Morty has dealt with worse. He’s dealt with alien federation, mobsters, murders, demons, evil jellybean kings, giants, and just about every thing under the sun and not. He’s even killed his own family once. But those weren’t really his family, it was demons dressed up as his family.

That was a messed up day. Morty shook his head away from his memories.

**_Another time, another place._ **

But this was his real family. This was his Beth and Jerry and Summer and Rick. This was his dimension. This was his real choice and it was their real choice to reject or accept.

Morty knew he shouldn’t be cutting his hair while he was crying but it just happened that way. The first snip was the hardest but soon it became easier and easier. Strand by strand, Morty morphed his hair until it was a perfect resemblance to the picture below.

Okay, maybe not perfect but a good second…third…fourth?

Whatever, it looked good and only he could see the mistakes he made. It wouldn’t matter in the long run.

He wiped the rest of the tears away and looked himself over in the mirror.

In it, he saw the face of _Morty Finn Smith._

**_Oh god, no. That just doesn’t sound right. It’s gotta be a perfect middle name._ **

Despite his red eyes and dried up tear trails, Morty was proud of himself. He already looked more himself than who he pretended to be. He liked it. It suited his facial structure and attitude.

Now for the binding.

Now, Morty had researched binding and he knew he shouldn’t do it with an ACE bandage but it was the only thing he had before he could get a real binder. He was saving up for one he had seen in a store downtown. It was skin color but costed over 40 dollars. He couldn’t buy them off the internet, yet. He didn’t know how his family would react to this. To _Morty Anthony Smith._

**_That sounded a bit better but not perfect. Not what I need._ **

He only had to wear the bandage until the next month. He lifted his yellow shirt and went to work, wrapping the stretchy material around his breasts.

He never minded for them, to be honest, but he wouldn’t mind them not being there either.

Once he was all done, hair cut, name changed, and his chest bound, Morty gave himself a few words of advice. He braced himself on the sink and stared himself down in the mirror. He could see and feel himself tremble as his words came out.

“W-what ever happens down there, Morty, at least you were honest with yourself. At least y-you did what needed to be done. At least you were able to be you. You are n-no coward, _Morty Julian Smith._ You are strong.”

**_Oh god no. You sound like that animal from Madagascar._ **

He nodded his head and forced a smile on his face.

Before he left, he cleaned up his cut hair and threw it in the trash. 

He had pulled the courage out of an unknown pocket of his heart and opened the bathroom door. He could hear his heart thump in his chest as he walked down the wooden stairs. He could see Beth and Jerry’s shadows in the kitchen, blissfully drunk and cooking dinner together. He could hear Summer in her room as her indie music filled the upstairs and the top of the stairs. He could see Rick, sitting down at the couch.

He was drinking beer and flipping channels n the interdeminsional cable box.

Maybe the best way to approach this was casually. Quietly. Don’t make a big scene. Let it come to him. He looked down at himself.

A simple yellow shirt, blue jeans, and white socks was what he wore. His closet was full of blouses and snug jeans but Morty was finally able to buy himself neutral clothes. No low collars. No fake pockets. He nodded to himself and walked the rest of the way down the stairs.

He walked behind the couch and took a seat next to Rick. His heart was pounding but he didn’t dare quiver with fear as Rick side eyed him. He didn’t stutter or tremble. He was going to be strong as he laid a leg out on the coffee table.

“I want you to call me Morty from now on.”

The bandage around him was constricting his breathing.

Or maybe it was Rick’s stare.

Either way, Morty couldn’t breath. He felt his palms become sweaty in his lap. A hair started to tickle the top of his ear and all he wanted to do was run away and hide forever. What if Rick rejected him. What if he called him a freak. What if he called off adventures forever because of this.

Morty held his breath.

With a classic burp, Rick turned back toward the TV.

“Whatever you say, _Morty_.”

Morty smiled privately as his heart fluttered. Rick had accepted him. Rick was still himself, Morty could see, but he had accepted him for him. He wanted to cry but held back the tears as he watched a rerun of Ball Fondlers. 

Then a thought came to him. Quietly and subtle but bold in it’s choice of words.

_Morty Sanchez Smith._

_**That’s it. That’s the name.** _


End file.
